


Banded

by roosterteethrambles



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Smut ahead, Soulmate AU, like. heavy rough stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-12 05:26:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16866958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roosterteethrambles/pseuds/roosterteethrambles
Summary: In a universe where you're told your soulmates and your future bonds with them, what happens once you meet someone with the wrong name?





	Banded

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for another writer about 3 years ago and I honestly have spent less time on college essays than I did coming up with the whole universe where Lists exist. All for one fic.

Your entire life had been dedicated to this moment. Your 18th birthday. The day you get your List. You’ve been learning about Lists for as long as you can remember - when a person turns 18, they must make their way to the hospital, sit with their arm in the machine which permanently marks them in accordance to their soulmates. At first, each one appears as a band around the arm - red for romantic soulmates and blue for platonic soulmates. Some people end up with several of each; some with none at all. When the other person turns 18, or already is at your time of marking, their name appears on the band - if it’s white, the bond between you and your soulmate will be consummated sexually and if it’s black, there will be no sexual interaction between you. It’s how your best friend Kyle realised he was adopted.

 

You loved Kyle, you honestly did. As a best friend. As a brother. Nothing more. You always felt that he’d be a little  _ too  _ protective of you though. He’d get extra jealous around people hanging around you. Whenever you tried setting him up with someone, he’d shrug them off around you. You never wanted to address the elephant in the room, because you never wanted to misinterpret his actions, but at the same time you felt like his take on your friendship was very different to yours. Either way, he knew how to keep you distracted and how to make you happy so you agreed, telling the officials that were insisting  _ family only  _ that, “It’s fine, it’s my younger brother!” They allowed him in, thankfully, without proof of ID. It would be hard to convince them that your little brother is only three months younger than you.

 

As he sits on the ground at your feet, telling you stories to distract you from the permanent inking, you think about the possibilities. You’d dated in the past, but nobody ever seemed to connect with you. Kyle’s been the only constant in your life and you pray that your blue band is blank until your best friend gets his too. When the machine operator tells you it’s safe to move your arm, you tentatively pull it out from the device. You’ve got three red marks and two blue. All three of your romantic ones have names - Miles, in black writing; Blaine, also in black writing; and there, in white writing, was the name  _ Kyle _ . The sight initially shocks you until you realise that your current Kyle is too young for his name to scar you. One of your blue bands has  _ Darren _ written in black. Kyle leans up to look but you stand quickly, covering your arms with sleeves, “Well, they’re probably very busy, we’d better get going!”

 

When Kyle got his List, he’d flipped out at the lack of your name. Like,  _ really  _ flipped out. He kept talking about time wasted, how he was so sure that you’d have come around once you realised you matched. You left him in that hospital room and never spoke to him again.

 

Fast forward through to college. You’d since had your final scar -  _ Janelle  _ in white. When you finally made your way to college, you’d held the door open for your new dorm buddy, who also happened to be called Janelle. You’d kept your List hidden from her until you saw your name on her arm and decided to be a lot less reserved. 

 

You’ve lived with her ever since, but as of now, now that you’ve graduated, you’ve accepted a job in Austin, Texas and Janelle just isn’t so hot on moving all the way down south. She’s still constantly checking up on you, though - making sure you’re eating three square meals a day and getting eight hours’ sleep.

 

You’ve also since found your other platonic soulmate - Darren, who lives in England and who you met through the internet and instantly clicked with, to pardon the pun. He’d come up to visit you a few times, and you’d even gone to England to see him once too. As you finished unpacking into your new apartment, you checked the time, noticed it’s when he finishes work across the pond and booted up your laptop to message him:

 

You: Boy, howdy!

Darren: Does this mean you’re all moved in and you’re one of them there Texans now?

You: Yep! I start work tomorrow. Excited doesn’t begin to cover it.

Darren: Aww, so how’s your place looking now?

You: Good! Your room’s all set up too, if that’s what you’re interested in

Darren: I didn’t even know I’d got a room!

You: You honestly think I wouldn’t have a specific Darren room? Shame on you!

Darren: Well, I thought we’d end up sharing like when you lived with Janelle!

You: Well, we still can if you want, but the option’s there. Maybe you’ll find your Joey or your Lauren over here and you’ll want some alone time!

Darren: Ha, ha(!) Maybe you’ll find your Kyle, or your Blaine, or your Miles. All of which happen to be names of Rooster Teeth employees, which happens to be based in Austin!!!

 

You sigh and roll your eyes. Darren’s been obsessed with this Rooster Teeth for longer than you’ve even known him. You keep meaning to watch their stuff, but you have no idea where to begin, and you just barely get time to, really. When he found out you were planning on moving to Texas he was just about ready to move in with you there and then - before realising he is in no financial state to be doing that.

 

You: There’s lots of Kyles, Blaines and Mileses everywhere, Darren. Same as you’re not the only Darren I know. You’re just my Darren.

Darren: Hell yeah I am!

You: Nerd. Anyway, Austin’s like, huge. There’s hardly any chance I’m going to meet one of your rooster employees.

Darren: They aren’t mine. Sadly. But you never know!! Maybe you’ll get stopped on an episode of Social Disorder.

You: Then that’s one more thing I can’t watch in case it does happen, because if I recognise the hosts it wouldn’t be fair and I wouldn’t be a decent subject!

Darren: Damnit, I will get you hooked on them too!

You: Good luck with that, buddy.

Darren: And then you’re gonna find Kyle, Miles and Blaine and realise that they’re all perfect for you and you’re gonna live together and your life’s gonna be a literal sitcom.

You: I’ll keep the basement free to be your room.

Darren: Yes!!! Wait, does this mean you’re actually gonna look out for them?

You: Oh god, no.

 

As much as you’ve loved discovering Janelle and Darren, you can’t stand the romantic side of soulmates. Some people just take them way too literally, so you hide your List with makeup and name yourself after whatever’s on someone else’s just for the fun of dating around. You’re certain that your old friend Kyle has ruined Lists for you forever now.

 

Darren: Aw, come on! You’re not getting any younger, you know.

You: Fuck you!

Darren: Nah, we’re blackscarred, remember? Go ask Janelle - or better yet, find your Kyle ;)

You: I’m leaving.

 

You shut your laptop up and decide to call it a night for now. You run yourself your first bath in Austin and settle in for an early night, ready to wake for your first working day.

 

=-=-=

 

You: So, today I get to report from Fantastic Fest.

You: [image attached]

Darren: THAT’S THE ALAMO DRAFTHOUSE. THAT’S. LAZER TEAM PREMIERE. SO JEALOUS.

You: I’ll tell them all that you love them dearly.

Darren: Find Kyle! Find Blaine! Find Miles!

You: I’m going there for work only, Darren. I’m not out on some quest to find my loves. Doing my job, that’s it.

Darren: Boo, you’re no fun.

You: Just for that, you’re not getting a shoutout from that Burnie guy.

Darren: I will legitimately give you $50 (nearly put pounds oops) if you can tell me which one Burnie is.

You: [image attached]

You: Poster’s outside. Far left is Colton Dunn. Cutie with curls is Michael Jones. Sideways-looking guy is Michael ‘Burnie’ Burns. Helmet and mustache is Gavin Free. Pay up.

Darren: Damn it.

You: I do my job and I do it well.

 

You accept the Paypal transaction gleefully as you start to get ready. Not for any of these potential employees that might turn up, obviously, but you want to be camera-ready in case you’re caught in a shot accidentally.

 

Despite getting there early, there’s already a pretty big buzz over this. There are other journalists, critics, cast and crew members, and what you can only assume are Rooster Teeth fans, all wearing very similar shirts to each other.

 

As the crowds start developing, you find yourself growing a little uneasy, so retire to inside the lobby of the building for a moment to recuperate. It’s not that you’re not big on crowds - you’re used to being in them with your job. You don’t mind them in a stoic number, it’s just crowds building you aren’t thrilled about. As you’re sat on one of the plush seats, an overwhelmingly handsome man walks over to you, concern laced in his expressively dark eyes as he bends to your level, “Hey, are you alright?”

 

You nod, “Yeah, I will be, thanks.”

 

“Let me go get you some water,” the guy insists, and walks off to return moments later with a glass filled with water, cold to the touch from the moment you take it from his hand. “So, do you have a name or am I just gonna have to call you ‘gorgeous’ all night?” he asks with a smirk.

 

You blush, “Well, while my parents did give me a name at birth, I think I prefer the one you’ve given me.” He laughs as you take a sip of water, and his lack of verbal response paired with his hopeful expression proves to you that he’s still looking for an answer. His sleeves just hide his List, so you pull out any random name from the top of your head. A fleeting look of disappointment flickers across his face but he soon perks back up again. He sits with you until you’re done drinking, where you tell him you have to get back to avoid someone else stealing your spot. “Oh, and I never got your name either!”

 

He looks around the room for a second, and you swear he locks onto a man talking to a brownish-blonde haired woman before looking back to you and answering, “Uh, Aaron.”

 

“Alright, well, Aaron, I hope to see you around!” you grin, waggling your fingers in goodbye as you head out, shutting the door behind you.

 

You get to interview a few of the team behind Lazer Team, the film you're currently being commissioned to report on. They all seem so genuine and so proud of themselves and especially their colleagues, constantly reminding each other of where they actually are right now. You keep catching your new friend Aaron's eye, blushing every time you find him looking at you. You so badly wish you could find an excuse to talk to him but your criteria doesn't mention anyone called Aaron, sadly. One person, Chris, mentions about working with someone called Aaron Marquis, and you note that name in small at the bottom of your notepad.

 

Once the film is over and the hype has died a little, you slide away from everyone else, completely bypassing Aaron talking to two others, heading out quietly and looking around for any passing cabs to take you home. The chill air runs against your skin, and you rub your now bumpy arms to warm up when you feel a jacket being thrown across your shoulders. You turn to see Aaron smirk at you, "Leaving so soon?"

 

"Yeah, well," you shrug, "I'd better get all this typed up as soon as," you wave your notepad in his face.

 

With a grin, he snatches it away from you, flicks to an empty page, takes the pen from behind your ear, adding a chuckled, "Cute, I didn't think people actually did that," and scribbles something onto the page. You look at it and see a number written on there and blush as Aaron puts your pen back. "So, you should maybe definitely call that number," he smirks, "because this was fun!"

 

"I didn't think people still actually wrote down their numbers either, yet here we are!" you giggle. "I've had a lot of fun, though I hope next time we get to talk some more?" you ask hopefully.

 

"The sooner you call, the better," Aaron raises his eyebrows, and you get your phone out to tap his number furiously. He laughs loudly when his phone lights up and rings, "Alright, hint taken! Catch you later, __!"

 

The new name throws you before you remember you had introduced yourself as that to throw him off your track. When he's out of sight, you rub furiously at your arm. You'd learned in Biology all about Itches. Itches occur as your heart race increases and the faster blood flow reacts with your scars. If your heart rate increases for any other reason, your scars are immune; the pheromones that cause attraction can overpower that, which causes an Itch.

 

Your arm has been tingling with the Itch on and off all evening, especially with Aaron near. You don't doubt that you and Aaron certainly hit it off, but his name wasn't on your List. Further proof that they're bullshit, you tell yourself. Your phone buzzes in your lap as you sit in the cab home.

 

Fr: Aaron - You stole my jacket!

 

To: Aaron - Correction: you gave me your jacket and didn't bother asking for it back. Not my fault.

 

Fr: Aaron - You can tell you're a reporter, brains and looks!

 

To: Aaron - You're not so bad yourself, Mister Sweet-Talking!

 

Fr: Aaron - Speaking of, there's a great restaurant just down the block from the Alamo. When I take you there on Friday at eight, what desserts do you like?

 

To: Aaron - anything with the words chocolate or fudge.

 

Fr: Aaron - Duly noted!

 

He certainly follows through, taking you to dinner on the Friday, then to bowling the following Thursday, then laser tag the next Wednesday. Every single time you’ve had to fight the urge to scratch in front of him, despite his name not being on your arm. Your first kiss after dinner brought tears to your eyes with the sheer agonising intensity of the irritation in your arm. There are anti-inflammatories you can take to diffuse the Itches, but it’s incredibly dangerous to use them unless you  _ definitely  _ have an itch, and there are different strengths based on how many soulmates you have and how many you’ve discovered. You don’t want to risk increasing your current dose until you know for certain what’s happening with your List.

 

The day of date four, which was to be dinner at his in the evening, you message Janelle:

 

You: Hey! How's home?

Janelle: Home is good. How's Austin? 

You: Incredible. Of course, you'd know that if you were here too!

Janelle: I made my choice and I'm sticking by it! So, found any soulmates yet?

You: I didn't come here just for my List, I'm here for work, which is going awesome, thanks for asking..!

You: Although...

Janelle: I knew it! You’ve found one of them, haven’t you! Is it Kyle? Are you getting laid? Is he better than me?

You: This is why I don’t tell you things.

Janelle: I’m sorry. Seriously though, is it?

You: ...I mean, I’m seeing this guy and I’m getting Itches around him.

Janelle: !!! Yes! At last! Which one is it?

You: That’s the thing. His name’s Aaron.

Janelle: Why doesn’t that surprise me?

You: What are you talking about?

Janelle: Well, did you tell him your name is Y/N?

You: …

Janelle: That’s what’s unsurprising.

You: STOP TALKING IN RIDDLES.

Janelle: Well, if this guy is your soulmate, and you’ve given him a fake name, why wouldn’t he do the same for you?

 

You stare at your screen for a moment, your eyes flickering over to your notepad. You flick to the page where you wrote his supposed full name and Google  _ Aaron Marquis  _ to find pictures of the same blue-eyed man that he’d looked at before introducing himself to you. You kind of want to be mad at him until you realise you’ve been doing the exact same thing to him, so you have no right.

 

You try and put it at the back of your mind, but even though you’re trying to get psyched for this date with this great guy you can’t help but worry about this whole potential soulmate thing. You’ve definitely felt attraction to him outside of romantic, meaning that he must be Kyle. The name still makes you cringe. You get ready, putting a little more effort in your look to keep yourself occupied with one difference - for once you  _ don’t _ hide your List from him. Once you’re happy with your deep purple dress and flats matching with your most favourite piece of jewellery - a thick velvet choker with a large purple gem dangling from the center - you make your way over to the address that Aaron/Kyle? had given you. On your way, you stop and get the next strongest anti-inflammatories and take them.

 

You knock at his door, smoothing your dress down and he answers with an excited grin, his mouth falling slightly agape when he sees you. “Holy - wow, hi, you look great!” he gushes, opening his door wide to let you in. You hide your face in your hair as you try not to visibly react to him in his dark button-up with those first few buttons undone and sleeves rolled up, especially struggling when your eyes fall to how well his jeans clearly fit. He offers to take your jacket but at first you insist on keeping it on. He leads you over to the couch and goes to the kitchen to get you a drink, joining you back on the couch for a while. You keep meaning to bring up his name, but conversation flows so smoothly that you keep forgetting. When he tells you he has to get back to making dinner, your innate reaction is to help him out. He accepts, noting that he’d definitely appreciate the extra time spent with you. As he seasons the main dish, you get to work preparing the side vegetables. You can’t help but notice his arm twitching constantly.  _ Almost as though it’s itching… _ you think to yourself. As he picks up the knife to start portioning the main meal you offer, “Hey, why don’t I do that and you can check on dessert?”

 

He nods, licking his lips as his expression falls into relief. “Yeah, I’ll, uh - if you don’t mind…” he puts the knife down ( _ thankfully _ , you add in your head) and heads to the fridge to check on how his dessert is setting. You carve your meal appropriately and he soon shoos you out of the kitchen, insisting that he has to make sure presentation’s perfect.

 

You tiptoe up to kiss his cheek, “I don’t care what it looks like, we both made it so I know I’ll love it,” you grin at him.

 

He blushes, mumbling, “Well sure, but I can’t offer someone this beautiful,” he takes your hand and twirls you around, making you giggle, “a culinary train wreck, can I?”

 

You shrug, “I guess not,” before giggling once again and sighing, “Alright, fine, I guess I can wait out at the dining table.”

 

He kisses your forehead before beaming, “I won’t be long, promise!” and your heart flutters with happiness. He keeps to his word and is out within ten minutes with a plate in each hand. He pours you another drink before sitting opposite you, and your conversation picks right back up again immediately from where you’d left off. You commend him on his cooking skills and he shrugs, “Well, it helps having a great assistant,” and grins widely at you.

 

“Maybe you should get them to help you more often,” you suggest with a smirk.

 

“Maybe I should,” he agrees with a nod, and you both laugh. Even after your meal, you lose track of time and your date realises suddenly with an, “Ah shit, dessert!”

 

You bite your lip, looking down and then up through your lashes at him. “We could always wait until later…” you suggest, flickering your gaze from him to the couch and back again. He takes the hint immediately, smirking and nodding. You stand and pick your plate up but he immediately takes it from your hand, jerking his head over to the sitting area. With a chuckle, you go back over to the couch. As your date returns, he dims the lights slightly, making you laugh. “Smooth.”

 

“Yes, I am,” he smirks as he joins you, draping his arm across the back of the couch. You shuffle closer to him and he grins, looking down at your lips and licking his own. You lean up and kiss him softly and he begins to reciprocate, but neither of you can keep the mood tame for long. Your fingers lace through his hair and his arm snakes around your waist, pulling you ever closer to him. He works your mouth open to slip his tongue past your lips, teasing it against yours and causing you to moan into his mouth. His hold around you tightens as he moves you around and lays you back on the couch, hovering above you before bending back down to resume kissing you.

 

His arms rest either side of your head as he strokes your cheeks lightly, all while nipping roughly at your lower lip. The contrast of the two actions has you fluttering your eyes shut as you let the word  _ Kyle  _ roll from your lips. He stops to look right at you before taking your wrists in his hands and pinning them above your head to see your list. He nods to it before rolling his hips against yours. "Goddamn Y/N, you outsmarted me," he growls, "and I don't take kindly to that." His hips snap against yours and you can feel him growing harder. You try and tug your wrists back down but his grip tightens as he hovers over you,shaking his head, "You need to be taught a lesson in lying about your name."

  
  


"You did the same,  _ Aaron _ ," you note back with raised eyebrows.

 

Kyle chuckles before bending down to kiss your neck, making you positively melt into the couch. "Yeah, well - I guess - we are meant to be," he states between pecks. "Which I am very -  _ very _ pleased about - especially with you wearing  _ this _ ," his hand rests on your throat as his thumb strokes along the velvet around your neck. The pressure makes you gasp and he immediately lets go with a, "Good gasp or bad?"

 

You nod, swallowing hard. "Good. So good. Please," you use your now-free hand to guide his back and he growls again as he resumes his actions.

 

You push your hips up to meet his and he chuckles, "Does someone want me to fuck them into oblivion?" You nod desperately and he smirks, "Tell me how. Every little detail."

 

"As in right now or in general?" You ask coyly.

 

"For now. In general can wait, right?"

 

You nod, licking your lips and fluttering your eyes shut. "Right now I want you to lead me to your bedroom, taking our clothes off on the way so that when we get to yours I can get on my knees and take you in my mouth while you tug my hair and fuck my face... Yes, like that," you moan as he grabs a handful of your hair, burying his face in your shoulder and grinding harder and faster. "Then I want you to throw me down onto the bed and fucking tease me. I want your fingers as you remind me of how much I'm aching for your cock. I want your tip just rubbing up and down all my fucking wetness, I want you to make me beg to be fucked." You take a moment to recompose yourself before continuing. "I want you to throw me onto all fours, bury my face in your pillow and have you pound into me until I'm pleading with you to let me cum. I want you to fucking show me that you've dominated me, that I'm satisfying my master, before you fucking ravish my oversensitive pussy." 

 

You open your eyes to see Kyle looking down at you hungrily. "So you're willing to take orders from me?"

 

You nod, "That's what I said,  _ master _ ," the last word making him breathe in deeply as he stands, promptly pulling you up off the couch and pulling you into a heated kiss. He starts to direct you across the apartment, first throwing his shirt on the floor, soon followed by his pants. 

 

He stops the movement to carefully unzip your dress. "I wanna savor every moment of this," he purrs as he slowly slides it off your body, pushing it around every curve of your body until it pools at your feet. He pushes you up against the wall, grabbing your ass to slide you up the wall and press his body to yours. "Weren't expecting this, were you, huh?" he asks, thrusting against you. The friction between the two thin layers of fabric separating you is only driving you even more mad. "You wanna get fucked against the wall, too?"

 

You nod, "So loudly we get noise complaints."

 

Kyle slams one hand on the wall just next to your face and his hips become more erratic as he moans, "Fuck, where have you been all my life?" before letting you down and leading you by the hand to his bedroom. He pushes his boxers down and your breath hitches at the sight. His hand goes to your shoulder and you nod, sinking to your knees. He holds your head in place with one hand and guides his cock to rub along your lower lip. You can already taste precum leaking out and lap at it, making him grip your hair tighter. He starts pushing you onto him and you play your tongue around him. You take him in deep and he rolls his head back as he groans with satisfaction. He soon pulls out again and orders, “All fours. Bed.”

 

You comply, bending down slightly and wiggling your ass in the air. Kyle soon climbs onto the bed and brings his hand down to meet your lace-clad cheek. “You’re so fucking hot…” he commends. “I bet you’re so wet for this right now, aren’t you? You’ve been dying to touch yourself, or for me to touch you. He slides your panties off and you hear him fumbling for something which you presume is a condom. You feel him line up with you, the tip just grazing between your glistening wet folds. You start to rock back but Kyle’s hand on your back is strong, firm; it keeps you in place as he resumes his teasing. His closet doors all have mirrors on and you watch his reaction as he slowly presses himself into you. You grab at the pillows as you moan out in ecstasy. He quickly falls into a rhythm that you meet him in, and it feels like nothing else you can ever imagine. Everything that he does, the sheer intensity of the moment, you can tell he’s doing that for you, and you’re trying your damn hardest to make sure he feels the same.

 

You pipe up, “Master, can I - can I  _ oh fuck  _ \- please, please let me ride you.” You lean back to push him deeper into you, practically screaming out with pleasure as you do.

 

He deliberately ponders for a while, grabbing your hips tightly and snapping his own against yours once, twice, three times before pulling out completely, laying back and stroking himself. “I don’t know that you want it bad enough…”

 

You turn to face him, crawling up the bed to him. “I’ll do anything for you, please, master, anything at all.”

 

Kyle bites his lip. “I’ll hold you to that,” he finally decides, jerking his head up to motion for you to get up. You straddle him and slowly sink yourself down. You bounce up and down on him until he holds your hips down to stop you before unclipping your bra and letting it fall off in front of him. He takes time to study and admire your breasts before pressing himself back up into you again. “Literal fucking perfection,” he reiterates as you carry on, picking up the pace. 

 

You feel the tension inside you building up, and Kyle seems to be aware too since he scoops you up to lay you flat on your back, still inside you as he regains control. He leans back to look at you fully and the angle he moves at is  _ just right _ . You try and grip whatever you can as he continues his attack on that spot, and before long you moan, “Fuck - master, please may...Please can…”

 

Kyle smirks, “You’re already close, huh?” You nod and he licks his lips, “I guess since you’ve been such a good little slut for your master, taking my cock so well,” he looks you dead in the eye as he commands, “Cum for me. I wanna see that pretty little face of yours fall apart for me.” You comply, letting the white-hot bliss soar right through you. He keeps thrusting until a few deep jolts later, he freezes, panting. He soon bends down to pepper kisses all over you. “Fuck, you’re so good…” he murmurs against your skin. “So fucking beautiful, so good. God, I’m so glad you’re mine.” He climbs off you to get cleaned up and you find a shirt of his to wear - an I Star RT shirt, to be exact - and he’s stopped in his tracks when he sees you. “Man, you even look better in my own clothes, that’s hardly fair!”

 

You giggle, “You fill them better really, I wouldn’t leave the house like this!” before patting the bed next to you. Kyle puts on a pair of boxers and joins you, spooning you into a cuddle. “So,” you start, “were you at that premiere because you work for that Rooster Teeth?” Kyle murmurs in agreement sleepily. 

 

“Yeah, I do some writing, some directing...” he trails off.

 

“Also you stopped itching since I’ve been here. And I can’t help but notice you also have a Blaine and a Miles…”

 

“Yeah, well, just before I served dinner, I took the next strongest pills. And yeah, best part is I’ve met them! I wor-”

 

“You work with your Blaine and Miles?” you ask.

 

“Yeah, and if we’re exactly the same then they might be yours too…” Kyle suggests and you groan, laying flat on your back and covering your face. “What’s up?” Kyle asks, looking over to you with furrowed brow.

 

“I’m gonna owe Darren  _ so much _ .”

 

You spend the night at Kyle’s and go with him to his work the next day. You feel a sudden wave of affection for the well-toned editor and gangly yet buff director who greet you, to which Kyle confirms that the muscular one is Blaine, and the man he’s got in tow is Miles. You all get dinner together and honestly, it’s the best date of your life. At one point they all talk about it being Thursday and something about being on the spot? All you know is that at 5pm you’re sat on a stage with Kyle next to you and Blaine and Miles opposite while this guy named Jon introduces you all.

 

Playing games with all three boys feels so natural, never awkward. It’s as though you’ve known each other for years. Jon keeps referring to himself as Wheel Number Five. You keep referring to him as Jealous.

 

Your first kiss with Blaine is tender and sweet and lingering. Miles’ is more excited, complete with nose-bumping. Over the course of the next few months you slowly start to all gather at your place until you eventually cave and invite them all to live with you.

 

Between work and three partners, you’ve not had much time to catch up, so you open your laptop to see an old message:

 

Darren: THAT’S YOU ON OTS. WITH KYLE, BLAINE AND MILES. SOMEONE PICK UP THE PHONE BECAUSE I. CALLED. IT.

You: Could have been a coincidence.

Darren: Was it though?   
You: ...No. Also I have bad news. Had to sacrifice your room in the name of Lunson.

Darren: What? D:   
You: Well, Miles and Blaine are whitescarred so you can share with them, just at your own risk.

Darren: I might just take the couch.

You: Good call.


End file.
